The nightingale has a lyre of gold,
The lark's is a clarion-call,
And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute,
But I love him best of all.
For his song is all of the joy of life,
And we in the mad, spring weather,
We two have listened till he sang
Our hearts and lips together.
1876
To A. D. - The Nightingale Has A Lyre Of Gold
William Ernest Henley
Suggested Poems
Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.